Paris's Battle
by Piegon
Summary: What would of happened if Paris didn't whimp out in his battle and he killed Menelaus? Would they still fight? Oh the possibilities!
1. Paris Swings Back

Troy

Paris Swings Back

Paris looked into the eyes of his bulky enemy. He was about a half a foot taller than Paris with red hair and a red beard, a flabby but firm stomach and brood stance. He was smiling. Laughing at Paris's scrawny form. _Oh great what did I get myself into this time! Ok calm down, just try your hardest, for Troy, for Father, for Helen._

Menelaus threw down is shield and laughed. _This is the best Troy could throw at me?_ He thought, _this will be easy._

_Not good sign! _Paris was panicking. He tried his hardest not to let it show on the outside, he had to be tough for Helen, for his family and culture.

He brought his shield up to cover his chest and held his sword at length, pointed straight at his opponent's heart, but his palm was sweaty and his nerves wobbled the blade. Menelaus struck first, Paris dodged and the sword struck his shield. This pattern carried on, Paris blocked to late and struck in the nose and blood gushed down to his mouth.

The taste of blood, his own, blood in his mouth made him feel sick, but it also made him angry. Angry that he was letting this brutal pig beat him in his own city! So he did what any Prince would do in this situation, he fought back harder and faster. He managed a few blows to connected with Menelaus, a few cuts and scrapes. And a vicious blow to his forehead, right between the eyes, made Menelaus groan and blink to get his vision back.

Paris was stunned, he'd managed to knock the brute senseless for a second, but he got his bearings back and took this opportunity to attack. He wielded his sword and managed to get Menelaus in the shoulder. Menelaus stumbled at this attack but, filled with a new anger, he sprang at Paris and managed to sliced a deep but not fatal cut into his thigh.

Paris let out a weak cry before his sword was tossed from his grip. _Great, I'm injured and weapon less, just great._

Menelaus stumbled back to catch his breath and peer at his new shoulder wound.

"You'll pay for that prince of Troy." Menelaus muttered angrily.

Paris took that chance to crawl back for his sword. Hector looked on at his little brother in wonder, he was so young yet he still battled fiercely and was not afraid of death.

Even though Hector had muttered those words in his head Paris could still hear them, filled with a new strength from his brothers words, he stood and ran towards Menelaus with all his strength and cried a battle cry putting the older warrior of for a moment. But Paris wasn't expecting Menelaus to have his sword ready and just as he reached him, Menelaus plunged his sword into Paris's abdomen cutting his cry short and gaining a pained look from him.

With his last once of strength Paris gripped his sword and plunged it into Menelaus's heart. They stood like that for a moment, then Menelaus let go of his sword that was still embedded in Paris's abdomen and slide to the ground with a pool of blood forming beneath him. The whole of Troy and its opposing enemy stood still all stunned at the site before them.

"No." Helen didn't fight the tears that were forming in her eyes. She couldn't care less if her scumbag husband died, it was Paris, her true love that she worried about. She cuddled up closer to Andromache who was also letting her tears follow freely, as they watched Paris fall to his knees with the sword still sticking out of his abdomen.

Paris fought to stay conscious, blackness ebbing its way round his vision. Hector was first to break out of his shock, running to Paris's side. He picked him up in his arms so that he wouldn't fall on the sword and push it farther into his stomach. Paris looked up to Hector before losing conscious all together. Hector felt for a pulse on Paris's wrist before whistling to his horse.

Aaron, Hector's horse, came trotting up to them and Hector placed Paris on top of him carefully before slipping on behind him.

"Paris, Prince of Troy has fought for Helen and won. You can turn and go back to your ships and go back to Greece. Helen stays. She is now Helen of Troy!", Hector called back to the enemy. The Trojan army cheered.The King stood dumfounded at the site of his dead brother.

"My brother is dead! You expect me to just let him go down with out a battle! WE FIGHT!" He called back and the armies went to war.

Yah! My first proper story!

Shall I continue?

Poor paris! But at lest he put up a fight!


	2. Amgamemnon Swings Back Too

Reviews reply! Yeah 3 Reviews!

Lauren: I might put Achilles in it but I'm not to sure about Briseis.

Sara: thanx!

Agamemnon Swings Back Too

Prima had seen his youngest son defeat a mighty warrior, and it made him proud. But seeing Paris go down as well was just too much to handle. He let a few tears fall silently down his cheeks before taking in the fact that Agamemnon was still going to attack after they had upheld their part of the bargain!

Helen saw that Paris was safe with his brother and rushed down immediately to see them come in the gates, her tears were flowing freely now.

Hector was angry. His little brother had just fought the best battle he'd ever come across, all for nothing! The Greeks were still going to invade!

"King Agamemnon! You do not uphold your bargain! You will pay for your mistakes!" Hector called back to the enemy. He kicked his horse into a gallop back to the palace.

The Greeks shouted out and leaped into battle. As Hectors charged to the gates he yelled up to the archers.

"ARCHERS READY!!!!"

Paris was cold out and, even in his amour and with and ancient sword sticking out of his stomach, was very light, all though he'd been like that for ages. _Never could hold down a good man's supper. _Hector reminded himself with a smile, but he still couldn't help worrying for his little brother.

"Look after him Helen. He needs you." Hector called back to her before he leaped out into battle once more.

"Oh Paris, what have you got yourself into this time?" Helen tried to joke to raise her sprites a bit but failed miserable and let her tears flow freely. All most immediately the healers came and took Paris to his room to be cared for. Helen and Andromache flowed quickly.

Outside the battle raged. The Trojans were holding their ground and hardly had to fight till Hectors gave the order for the front line to push forwards. That was the moment that the front line wished that they were all in the back line. But they were winning victoriously.

"RETREAT!!!!!!!!! BACK TO THE BEACH!!!!!!!!" Agamemnon called to his army.

Achilles was watching this all from a near hillside. _What a pathetic attack! And the Greeks had more men also!_

Paris was in pain, utter pain. He felt like he was dying. The healers were being less than gentle. But the thing that truly shocked him was all the blood he'd lost. Covering almost ever rag and ever cloth that was tossed around the room. He was supposed to be unconscious but he'd snapped out of it as soon as he was put down on his bed.

Helen was sitting next to his head, brushing his hair and kissing his forehead. Her tears were slipping down on his face after ever agonizing scream of pain he realised.

Andromache was waiting outside, all the blood was too much for here. After the battle had been won, Hector ran straight to Paris's room, which was easy to find. All you had to do was flow the screams.


	3. Achilles To The Rescue

Hello! I'm very sorry for the delay! Here's the next Chapter it's a bit short though!

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Paris was dying. Well he felt like he was dying. He knew his time was up; all he wanted to do was to give in and be gone forever. He had gone unconscious when Hector burst through the door. Helen was crying endlessly, they all knew Paris had a very slim chance of surviving.

There was too much pain, too much suffering, for anyone to handle.

King Priam slumped down in his throne with his hand resting over his eyes. _Why? Why did my son, a prince of Troy, have to go through so much pain at such a young age?_

The bleeding had stopped, but still too much had been lost. Paris was laying completely still on his blood soaked bed with Helen sitting by his head, brushing his curly hair that had been dampened from sweat and tears. He was a deadly pale color and had large bags under his eyes.

Hector and Andromache had not cared to hide their tears. They were silently praying to Apollo to help Paris to come back to them.

His wound had been wrapped up in a big bandage and blanket and he was placed in another chamber to rest.

Achilles paced around his tent. Agamemnon's army had fought miserably, and they had had more men! An un-noble retreat, the pathetic cowards couldn't even keep to formation! And then there was that little scrawny so-called "Price of Troy", Paris. Ridiculous name, but still Achilles didn't know he had it in him. Managing to kill the bulky figure of Agamemnon's brother was a pretty good accomplishment.

Achilles was beginning to like this kid Paris. But he remembered the sword in his stomach, _I was beginning to like the kid as well, I can't see what he can truly do if he's dead._

Suddenly an idea sprang into his head, _What if I could transverse immortality to Paris. No, ridiculous idea how would I do that!_

Achilles laughed at his stupidity, transferring immortality, what an idiotic idea. He then settled down into a peaceful sleep.

Paris was still cold out. Not a twitch came from him. Hector didn't dare move from his side nor did Helen, and not a dry eye was to be found. If Paris didn't return to them soon, there was not much chance he'd be coming back any time soon. His pulse was weak and jumping and his face was pale and had a waxy look to it. He need help, lots of help and soon.

Achilles had spent the whole night thinking about the possibility of spreading his healing powers to Paris. He would be helping the opposition, but it would be for his benefit as well. That was it. He was going to march straight up to the Trojans and heal their prince for them and hope for a small reward and opportunity to meet this Paris and see what he's made of. It was worth a shot. Plus it would really annoy Agamemnon. _Even better_.

Next day,

Achilles woke and dressed quietly in the early morning and left before the sun rose for The Trojan palace.

It took him a while to master the unruly sands of the beach and up onto the firm sturdy ground. He was sure the guards would hold him at spear point till he stated his meaning of approach. So he just walked up as normally as possible trying not to look suspicious. But there no sign of life as he strode up to the large wooden doors. Not one guard so much as popped he's head out at him. It was all quiet, too quiet. So, Achilles decided to do the natural thing. He knocked on the door.

The quiet air was filled with two loud and hollow sounding bangs clanging off as an echo that seemed to fill the whole palace. Nothing happened for a while, but Achilles saw that there were guards but they were very well hidden in between the stones and dressed in pale creams to camouflage in with their surroundings. They had pointed their arrows at him but didn't see him as such a big threat, he didn't even have any weapons anyway.

Soon a small doorway close to the doors was opened and a guard stood, blocking it.

"May I 'elp?" It asked in a sarcastic voice.

"Yes, dear Trojan, I've come to save your Prince." Achilles tried to keep his annoyance in check and avoid letting sarcasm enter his voice, he needed them to trust him after all.

The guard eyed him suspiciously. "Wot business do you 'ave with da Prince?" It snared.

"A rather important one actually, I need to save his life, now be a good guard and let me in." Achilles smiled. The guard sniffed and called back to someone. He came out with six other guards all as big as he if not bigger.

"Wot makes us think you aint lying?" The original one sniffed again. _He must have a cold_, Achilles concluded.

"Because I'm telling the truth." Achilles stated simply. _This is gonna take awhile._

Another guard appeared in the doorway and nodded.

"Alright, then. The boss says you can go in. But any funny business and you're out!" The guard nearly shouted and poked him through the door.

_I'm in. _Achilles thought with a slight smile_. This better work!_

I am so so soooooooooooooooo sorry guys. Ok I was so stuck for time and im not sure where this is going so any suggestions are welcome just email or even better REVIEW!!!!!!!! You now you want to! Plus I wanted this to be a good long chapter but it still isn't long enough! Im gonna start writing the next chapter see yah guys!


	4. Power

Paris's Battle Chapter 4

Achilles was surprised at how easy it was to get into the Trojans palace but the was soon justified. He was guarded by heavily armed guards and escorted to the king's throne after being thoroughly checked for weapons. The Trojans palace he had to admit was a well built place, a bit dark but still magnificent. The Kings throne was spectacular. The room it was in was even more impressive; it was a large room with high ceilings and large archways and pillars spread evenly around the room and large glass windows open up to a large private clear that held a large oak tree in its middle.

But do think Achilles would have gotten in the kings throne room so quickly! No! He first was lead through a small dark passageway, off the main courtyard and was taken to stone room where he was striped of his weapons and shield. He was roughly checked over by six guards before he was lead through a mass of complicated tunnels only to end up back where he was lead in. Under heavily armed guards Achilles was lead to the King's throne. Sitting high on a large comfortable looking chair sat a forlorn looking Trojan King. His face was grey with worry lines stretched across his forehead.

He would have asked why the king was so depressed, he had won a vicious battle, but he soon remembered the fate of the king's youngest son and his reason for being there. The king looked upon Achilles with saddened eyes, searching for help.

"What business do you have here?" King Prima simply stated rather than questioned it,

"If it is any concern to you, I think I might have a plan to help save your youngest son." Achilles said with confidence, "My Lord." He added hastily though mentally slapping himself for the obvious mistake.

The King's eyes lightened slightly at the proposal. "What do you have in mind, young man?" The King failed miserably at hiding his enthusiasm.

"Let's just say I know a few tricks." Achilles said with a slight smile.

"Why should I trust you? Why are you helping Paris?" Prima wanted to believe his son could be saved but he wanted to know if this man wanted to truly help him or trick them.

"I have a feeling he has an important role in what is to come."

After Achilles council with the King, the King himself leaded him to Paris's chambers. But what Achilles was about to see was much worse than what he expected. He had expected blood, a great deal of it from Paris's body, to be strewn around the bed and everyone trending to him, he had also expected a pasty skinned Paris to be lying in a troubled unconsciousness with his madden weeping over him. All these, he saw but much worse than the he had pictured. The bed, even though he had been switched into a new one, was slowly adapting a red color as the blood trickled from Paris's wound, through the thick wads of bandages and on to the white linen below. There had been no hope of Paris living, for the sword had pierced through his stomach.

Achilles swallowed nervously. _I hope this works! It better or else I'm going to get murdered by the Trojan Army!_

Helen was pried from Paris's side but Hector stayed latched to his brothers hand.

"What is he doing here father?" Hector spat viscously at Achilles.

"Peace Hector, he is here to help." The King replied calmly.

He didn't know what to do, Paris was dieing, quickly. His skin was a pasty white and his bandaged stomach was thick with red, crimson liquid. He hesitantly placed his hand on Paris's cold forehead and closed his eyes. Remembering his mother's words he focused his attention of channelling his powers to Paris. A guard absently sniffed his nose and another tripped over a cloth on the floor. Achilles opened his eyes and took a deep breath and started again. He was once more interrupted by a loud cough and a couple pathetic sobs from Helen. Right, they have to go.

"I need quiet. Could you leave me, please, my lord?" Achilles asked quietly with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Alright as long as you don't try anything." King Prima eyed him suspiciously before ushering Helen and the guards out the door along with himself and closing the door. Achilles turned back the bed to see Hector sitting unmoved with his brother's lifeless hand in his.

"If you think I'm leaving you've got another thing coming." Hector said coldly.

Achilles just stared at him. "Fine as long as you do **not** make a sound." He replied equally as cold.

Achilles slowly placed his hand on Paris's forehead and closed his eyes. He focused entirely on, once more, channelling his powers to Paris through a mental link. His mind whirled and danced as power surged through his brain down his spine to his arm, travelling down to his sweaty palm. The power then stopped a moment to decide where it was being sent, then surged through the palm and into Paris's forehead and to his mind.

The sound was incredible, well lets say spectacular. As soon as the connection had reached Paris's mind he had woken, and lets also say that have power traversed directly to your mind isn't the most peasant event. Two blood-curing screams pierced the air, Paris from being shocked from near death and Achilles, as now he shared Paris's pain, from the searing agony ripping through his abdomen. Theoden and his guards came tearing into the room to find Paris sitting straight up in his bed with Achilles hovering overhead looking extremely fatigued and not to mention in pain. They both had their hands over their stomachs, even Achilles who wasn't even injured. Theoden ran to his son's side before looking over to see Achilles collapse in a chair then switched his view to his eldest son Hector. Hector just stood there stunned before stumbling to Paris's side and attempted to hush Paris's cries of agony.

Over the all commotion, Helen was crying for Paris as she tried to break through the jumble of guards who were crashing around tiring to get healers and supplies. But she only made it to the side of Achilles who was still collapsed in a chair completely out of it, so she lowered herself to the floor by the chair and watched the commotion threw blurry wet eyes.

Paris was breathing heavily and biting his lower lip in an attempt to muffle his cries, but the pain in his stomach was too much and he couldn't hold them back. Hector and his father were cradling him in their grips till they were torn away by the healers who tore Paris's bandages away and cleaned the blood from the wound to find that it had finally stopped bleeding even after his wakening. They then stitched up the wound and let Paris fall into a comfortable unconsciousness, stating that he was finally getting better.

In his deep peaceful sleep Achilles smiled to himself, _it had worked._

_I'm so sorry everyone! I haven't updated for umm lets see Opps… a month! Im sorry! I have no excuse why I didn't update but writers block and im sorry! _

_Thank YOU for the reviews! You don't know how much they mean to me! They helped me get this chapter done! Thank you ALL!_

_Piegon_


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